It’s not enough... the white walls that smell like bleach, the drone of the machines around me.
The sweet swoosh of air that goes in and out
The touch, the touch is like the sweetest elixir.
The feel of skin on mine.
The warm brush of the nurse’s arm as she straightens my blankets and checks the numerous colored cables that keep me alive.
The world around me is a parade of white and teal, hands and machines.
Faces are blurry at best, and few and far between as I lapse in and out
of my two different nightmares.
Thankfully, I feel no physical pain.... it is the emotional pain of the memories that continuously wrack my soul.
I
have a name, yet I have not heard it pass the lips of those who care
for me. To them I am Jane... they know nothing of me, or how I came to
be in my present condition. In muted whispers they have contemplated my
life just as they would the latest episode of a tawdry soap opera.
Within the span of a week I was a University student, a fed up
housewife found wandering the streets in nothing but my housecoat, and
my personal favorite, a hooker left for dead with a box full of
contraband illusion discs by my side. They should concentrate more on
getting me out of this hell rather than creating new ones for me. I
have experienced most of them for myself. I am Lt. Commander Elizabeth
Finn and I am a time traveller...
Last
week began as just an ordinary day, I woke up and travelled to St.
Petersburg, Russia.... to some that may seem a bit out of the ordinary,
but for me it was just standard operating procedures at Unit 76. I have
been doing this for the past four years, my first journey taking me to
the year 1776 to document the life of our first president, and to
retrieve artifacts from that time. Artifacts, and a DNA sample of
George Washington. In 2048 Unit 76 was created by the Scientific Senate
and the President to began a breakthrough type of historical research
by collecting DNA to clone and bring to life the great leaders and
historical figures of our past generations to be interviewed and to be
educated by. The years following the great quake in California had
shown our country and the world the need for knowledge and the need for
strong historical roots. For ten years geneticists, engineers,
anthropologists, archeologists and one man, Thomas Matthews, worked in
secrecy in a secluded facility nestled in the Olympic mountains, not
far from where they discovered a sunken alien space vessel in the early
1980s. In 2038 Thomas Matthews discovered a small device on the vessel
while performing a routine inspection for the Science Senate. This
device, when touched at it’s center, could send someone to the exact
time and place that the person was thinking of. Matthews took this
device and instead of using it for his own or others profit, brought it
to the Scientific Senate; the branch of our new government that oversaw
space exploration, medical research. They were the keepers of the keys
of every scientific government secret. Lucien Darnoff, then Senior
Senator of Scientific development saw it as a valuable tool and key not
only to our future, but our past. We are taught history so we would not
make the mistakes of our past, it is a noble thought.... yet we keep on
repeating our mistakes, at least our country’s leaders have. There have
been no more Washington’s, Lincoln’s, JFK and RFK’s... there has been
no one that has made an impact on our world in a positive way since
Martin Luther King, Plato, DaVinci, Mozart... No John, Paul, George or
Ringo.... with all the technology and toys our society has developed we
have been starving for a cultural Renaissance. Our lives have become
cold and sanitary. Children are no longer conceived ‘naturally’, but by
in-vitro and you have to have a permit. Fast food, tobacco, alcohol and
street drugs are a thing of the past. People no longer seek destroy
their bodies, but to perfect them healthily along with their minds. The
Quake of 2017 found two thirds of California real estate, the country’s
richest farm lands, in the ocean, forcing us to re-evaluate our
priorities because of the food shortage that followed. The once grey
and uninhabitable moon that circled our planet is now the most fertile
planet in our solar system thanks to our Scientific Senate and Lucien
Darnoff. The Scientific Senate and it’s vast staff of the most
brilliant minds of the 21st Century have saved the country and the
world twice over thanks to their efforts. The vast war scarred deserts
of Afghanistan, Iraq and Iran are now the greener than the Brazilian
rain forests. It’s not all utopian fantasy... men and women are now
getting their highs by ‘tuning’ their brains into illusion discs,
sometimes rendering themselves into vegetables. The United States and
India are embroiled in a technological ‘Cold War’.... I guess we reap
what we sow. Those who don’t have mathematical or scientific aptitude
are pretty much branded outcasts, they are the forgotten. Our children
have become creatively constipated. We no longer have music or art in
our schools... music of the past is listened to, bands of the future
pretty much play cover songs of the bands of the early 21st century.
Creativity has become considered a frivolous past time, a ‘chore’
given to those who are now considered servant class society. Why is it
that a world that prides itself on ‘breeding’ the most brilliant
children in the world cannot see that art and music are part of that
brilliance and should be celebrated?
I
digress. I can say that though. I was blessed with great scientific
aptitude... at the age of three I was taking apart and rebuilding the
family computer. I am, however, a 20th Century junkie.... I love the
music of the 20th century, I love to paint, write poetry, I study the
works of Dali and Muddy Waters, art and the blues. My parents often
found themselves having to corral me back into the lab, and I would
gently remind them to be thankful I’m not down in the Underground
swilling Pepsi and popping cheeseburgers. A week ago I was a
Chrononaut, a time traveling astronaut. A week ago I was a walking,
talking human being... now I am a voice in a shell, screaming as I fall
into nightmares, and screaming from behind lifeless eyes.
***
March 4th, 2053 0500hrs.
Unit 76 Commons Chow Hall
“Good
morning Lt. Bailey...” I smiled and yawned as I returned the salute of
one of the new Jr. Officers trying to find their way to the chow hall
at Unit 76. Most of the upper echelon wouldn’t be found dead eating in
the chow hall with all the green eared nubs; I however remember what it
was like to be one of those green eared nubs and I found their
enthusiasm contagious and much needed on most mornings. This was one of
those mornings. After six solid weeks of star charting and time jumping
I have been through three major wars, the plague, and we still had yet
to collect the DNA sample of one Nikolai Romanov. The Tsar was a
ghost.... just as elusive in his own time as he is in our current
history books. Our historians have been giddy at attempting to make
this DNA find, to finally know what really happened to the Romanov
family.
My
team has been worked time and half, and the pressure is starting to
show, mistakes are being made, mistakes that can change the future if
not mended. Romanov and his family have gone into seclusion in their
home in Ekatarainburg , no one new has been allowed onto the premises,
and our window of time is slowly closing. I have to wonder, why is it
so important that we know? What could we possibly gain from knowing
what happened to them? Could we prevent it, and if we did, what would
it do to the future? Sometimes I have to wonder why we are doing all
this, are we playing God?
“Finn?
You in there?” Mac was waving her hand in front of my face as I was
apparently staring into my tray of food, oblivious. I blinked hard and
looked up to return the warm smile in front of me. Mac was one of our
Civilian consultants, a computer whiz plucked straight from Berkeley to
head up the science of our time travel. Unlike the bigwigs in the
Technical Division, and much like myself, she found the bustling
community of the Unit 76 chow hall to be a place of refuge.
“Mackenzie,
I see you survived another 18 hour with the Commander. Have you slept
at all?” like mine, her eyes were sunk with dark circles.
“To
quote the good Commander ‘sleep is for the weak... we must forge on in
hope to save our future....’ or some such nonsense. Is that guy for
real? I only thought jarheads like that existed in movies.” I just
answered her with an eye roll.
OVERHEAD VOICE: Attention Unit 76
Guests, would the Guest who borrowed Commander Breen’s toothbrush
please return it immediately. Thank you and have a pleasant day.
A
low rumble of laughter rolled through the chow hall. Once again the
pressure had gotten to someone, and well.... things happen. This
wasn’t the first time and it won’t be the last.
Mac
and I finished our breakfast in silence, watching the others in the
hall go through their morning routines. Today I had hoped to break free
a little early to enjoy some time driving out to Sequim and get some
shopping done. I knew though, that that was not in the cards, once
again I was going to be plunged back into the throes of Revolutionary
Russia. I’m just thankful they weren’t sending me back as a socialite,
I’ve really begun to loathe corsets. A man must have invented them
because no sane woman would seriously want to do that to herself on
purpose. It’s torture, really. I really wasn’t in the mood to play God
today, I was in the mood to get in my car and just drive, and just
forget about all that I have been a witness to. My life was no longer
my own to lead. I no longer had control over whether I would eat
Cheerios for breakfast or just a bacon and toast and jelly sandwich.
It’s the simple stuff that we take for granted. Today I just wanted to
be free, but that was no longer a possibility, not with the Commander
in charge of the program.
“Finn!
Lt. Commander Finn! Are you with us today?” the Commander was about
five inches away from my face as I sat at my briefing desk daydreaming
about the beaches of the Washington Coast, just driving, just being any
place but here. I blinked twice and shot him my ten-second dirty look
as if to say ‘back away Jack!’.
“Commander Breen, I’m here...” I straightened in my chair. I was really beginning to resent him, and I know he resented me .
“Very
well then... ok people, today we are going to poke one last hole in the
wormhole to try to extract Romanov. Finn you are our key traveller, you
will lead the team consisting of Holliman, English and Tate. Dr.
Lavendar and her team will be awaiting extraction at approximately
fifteen hundred. If, I say if extraction is successful, you can look
forward to an extended leave.” the two magic words escaped his thin
lips, the rest was noise. Mac and I exchanged glances, Holliman
whispered ‘finally’ under his breath. Breen stood and exited as quickly
as he entered the small briefing room. I was now in charge.
“As
Breen said earlier, we’ve got a busy day ahead of us, go and get in
garb and meet me back here at nine. Let’s just remember why we’re here,
it’s real easy to forget when we’re in the fantasy of the past.
Booyah!” the last word I fist-pumped and then stared out into the room.
Normally I was all hyped about a jump, but today was different, today I
felt off-kilter. Everything felt out of sync when it came to this
project and I just couldn’t put a finger on it.
